E186 



•Mii:!i:t 









LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



DD0D3ESTfl33 % 



;|jll|l|lllh{l|lllll1lll(l!l«|l!!il!lli!< 







C, vP 






• -» 



'^0^<i''' 






:^/ 






- 5 V '. 



^^ 



"ik; 




< 



W:- 



k^-^ 



M'^' 

^ y 



v-^'. -^o. 



m^ 



""^ oVJif 



::^ 



1 o "V . 



■J? '■'<»>. 



'V 



A 









'^ 

■^ 



.0 



,^ 



0" ^ *0 



*<>. <i 









-Jv 



0' -,':''. "^ 



v * 



V":/ 



0' 







^^ 










O"^ , N ^ ^^O 






^% v(i/3m.^ .^'^ 












."v 












.StP- 



vV^. 







.o^^'>.. ^- 




'^ /^'^»:'.\.^'' ' 






"o V^ . /■ 






S^ 



^^°<. 



' ' ^ v ... "o. ° " " Vv 



•7", 









^. 






' /• o 




^. '..s^ ^"^ 



,-^ 












' ^^ 













^^^*^^. 




Report of the Committee 
on Arrang'ements'and 
Reception to the Chief 
of Staff of the United 
States Army and offi- 
cers of the General Staff. 
HeldattheNewWillard 
Hotel on the occasion of 
the annual meeting: of the 
Society, Tuesday Even- 
ing, December 4, 1917. 




Published by the Society 
of Colonial Wars in the 
District of Columbia, 
November I, 1920. JH 




/V 



SOCIETY 

COLONIAL^ 
WARS 



.-II £7 



r\ 



A 



V 






^ 



COMMITTEE ON ARRANGEMENTS AND RECEPTION. 

Captain Robert R. Bennett, U. S. A., Chairman. 
Major William Baird, U. S. A. 
Dr. Marcus Benjamin. 

Lieutenant Colonel Walter Collins ClEphane, U. S. A. 
Commodore Richard Graham Davenport, U. S. N. 
Dr. James Milton Flint, U. S. N. 
Mr. Charles Carroll Glover, Jr. 
Captain Ralph W. Hills, U. S. A. 
Major Nevil Monroe Hopkins, U. S. A. 
Lieutenant Colonel Frederic L. Huidekoper, U. S. A. 
Mr. Thomas Hyde. 
Dr. Charles Ford Langworthy. 
Dr. Edward Emory Morse. 

Brigadier General DaingerfiELD Parker, U. S. A. 
Assistant Surgeon General William Colby Rucker, U. S. P. H. S. 
Major General Joseph Prentiss Sanger, U. S. A. 
Rev. William Tayloe Snyder. 
2952—2 



The foHowing report on the reception to the Chief of Staff 
and OflEicers of the General Staff held at the New Willard Hotel 
on the occasion of the annual meeting of the Society, Tuesday 
evening, December 4, 1917, is herewith respectfully submitted 
by the Committee on Arrangements and Reception appointed by 
his Excellency, Mr. J. Burr Johnson, Governor of the Society. 
It has been delayed, not only on account of many micmbers of 
our Society being engaged in war work, but also in consequence 
of the few meetings that have been held since that time. 

Cards of invitation were sent to the Chief of Staff and each 
officer of the General Staff, about seventy in all, most of whom 
accepted. The vSecretary of War was also invited to be present 
but could not do so on account of a previous engagement. 

A patriotic feature of the meeting that was held preceding the 
reception was the decision to send a sum to our soldiers abroad 
to be expended as might be seen fit. 

Pursuant to this action, the following resolution was unani- 
mously adopted: 

"Be it resolved by the Society: 

"That at the meetings of the Society during the period 
of the war, the serving of refreshments shall be omitted 
and the amount usually expended thereon shall be sent 
to General John L. Pershing, Commander of the American 
Expeditionary Forces in France, to be expended by him 
for the benefit of American soldiers, as in his discretion 
he shall see fit and the Treasurer of the Society is hereby 
ordered and directed in compliance with this resolution 
to remit to General Pershing the sum of five hundred 
dollars from the funds of the Society." 

An acknowledgment from Colonel Edward Bowditch, Jr., 
Aide-de-Camp to General Pershing, to Frederick B. Hyde,Secretary, 
read as follows: 

"General Pershing has directed me to acknowledge the 
receipt of your letter enclosing check for $500, which 
has been placed in the fund already established, to assist 
cases of need as they arise. He has directed me to express 

(4) 



through you to the Society of Colonial Wars in the District 
of Columbia, his cordial thanks and appreciation of your 
gift." 

At the close of the meeting, Lieutenant Colonel R. V. K. Applin, 
14th (Kings) Hussars, British Army, delivered a valuable address, 
taking as his subject, "Our Task in the War." 

This has been prepared for publication by the Society and is 
added to this report. The guests were then invited to supper. 
The large red-room of the New Willard Hotel having been parti- 
tioned and suitably decorated for the purpose. The Acting 
Chief of Staff, Major General John Biddle, and his principal 
officers being seated at the large round table together with the 
Governor and former Governors of the Society. The Chief of Staff, 
General Tasker H. Bliss, was in France. The following named 
officers who were invited to attend comprise the complete list 
of members of the General Staff Corps, stationed in Washington, 
D. C, on the date of the reception: 



Major General John BiddlE, Acting Chief of Staff . 

Major General Eramus M. Weaver, Chief of Coast Artillery. 

Brigadier General JESSE McI. Carter, Chief of Militia Bureau. 



Colonels. 



P. D. Lochridge. 
Francis E. Lacey, Jr. 
Jos. D. Leitch. 
Harry A. Smith. 
John J. Bradley. 
John E. Stephens. 



Daniel W. Ketcham. 

William S. Graves, Secretary, G.S. C. 

Fred W. Sladen. 

Palmer E. Pierce. 

Edward D. Anderson. 



Lieutenant Colonels. 



Ralph H. Van Deman. 
Charles H. Hilton. 
Harry H. Tebbetts. 
Llewellyn P. Williamson. 
William S. Browning. 
Douglas McCaskey. 
George T. Bowman. 
Morton G. Mumma. 



Jacob M. Coward. 
Frank T. Hines. 
James E. Shelley. 
Edwin S. Hartshorn. 
Frederick S. Young. 
William A. Castle. 
William B. Graham. 
Alexander B. Coxe. 
Ben Lear, Jr. 
William W. Taylor, Jr. 
RoscoE H. Hearn. 
William B. Wallace. 
Sherman Miles. 
Charles H. Mason. 
Andrew D. Chaffin. 
Merrill E. Spalding. 
Arthur W. Lane. 
Fulton Q. C. Gardner. 
Franz A. Doniat. 



Robert E. Wyllie. 
Ulysses S. Grant, 3d. 
Percy P. Bishop. 
Harvey W. Miller. 
Dennis H. Currie. 
Joseph R. McAndrews. 
William N. Hughes, Jr. 
Robert I. Rees. 



Majors. 



Kenneth C. Masteller. 
Francis J. Behr. 
Constant Cordier. 
William R. Standiford. 
Walter K. Wilson. 
Walter H. Johnson. 
Frederic G. Kellond. 
A. Owen Seaman. 
George P. Tyner. 
Elverton E. Fuller. 
Oliver P. Robinson. 
Thomas W. Brown. 
Fred T. Cruse. 
Elvid Hunt. 
Philip H. Sheridan. 
Thomas W. Hammond. 
David McCoach, Jr. 
Roger S. Parrott. 



OUR TASK IN THE WAR. 



AN ADDRESS DELIVERED BEFORE THE SOCIETY OF 
COLONIAL WARS AT THEIR ANNUAL MEETING HELD 
DECEMBER 4, 1917. 

By Lieutenant Colonel R. V. K. Apflin, D. S. O. 

oj the Fourteenth (King's) Hussars. 

When I undertook to address a few words to this Society on 
the war, I was under the impression that I was only to speak to 
those who were about to become my friends, to whom I feel bound 
by the tie, common to us both, of possessing fighting ancestors 
who had served their country in the colonial wars of the past. 
I find, however, that I am addressing your distinguished chief of 
staff, and the general staff officers of the Army of the United 
States, on a subject which is wholly their prerogative, and on which 
I am the least competent myself to speak, because I am not even 
a member of the British general staff, but only a humble regimental 
officer. 

I should therefore, like to make it quite clear, before I go further, 
that I am not speaking, like the centurian of old — "as one under 
authority" — that I am not voicing the opinions of the British 
general staff, and that I have not the slightest intention of even 
hinting at what your Army should do. Your task in the great 
war in which we are both engaged, is our task too, and it is of our 
task that I am speaking tonight. 

I shall only deal very generally with this, that is, your task and 
mine, your people and my people, for look at it how you will, this 
startling fact confronts us — the little band of Pilgrims, my country- 
men and yours, who sailed across the western ocean three hundred 
years ago in the "Mayflower," who left home and kindred for the 
sake of God, Justice, and Freedom, who turned their backs on 
Europe forever, today are recrossing that ocean for exactly the 
same cause; no longer a tiny band in a cockle-shell ship, but a 
great host, a mighty army, conveyed by a fleet of giant battle- 
ships, but animated by the same spirit, the same courage, the 
same ideals, sailing back across the same ocean to fight for right 
against wrong, for freedom against slavery, for justice against 
intolerance. Is not this your task? Is it not our task? Has 
it not ever been the task of the Anglo Saxon race? Whether the 
crusaders fighting in the Holy Land for the Cross against the 
Turk, or our fathers fighting the Spaniard for freedom of worship, 

7) 



or against the Corsican Usurper on the very ground for whose 
freedom we are fighting today, or you yourselves, was it not you 
who fought to obtain your independence, and later did you not 
fight your own people to free an alien race, to do away with 
slavery forever? Always for the same cause, always for freedom, 
justice, and the rights of man! 

Gentlemen, I think we must all agree that it would have been 
nothing less than disaster if you had not fought that great fight 
against the British for your own independence, because it was these 
two great struggles that first created this great nation, and then 
welded together into one great American people, whose task is 
today to save the world from the disaster which is threatening it. 

Gentlemen, you expect me to now tell you something of our 
task in this war, and I can only speak in a very, very general way. 
I can only give you a very, very slight account of what we have 
done, and if this is of interest to you, if it is of use, then perhaps 
we who came over here, may be able to be of some assistance. 

We have not come here, gentlemen, as instructors in the military 
art. It would be absurd, you know that, to attempt to enlighten 
men whose history dates backward, not from such and such a date, 
but before such a date as 1775, and even further. You have a 
magnificent military history. I am afraid that in my ignorance 
I did not go back beyond 1775-1783. I began after that, but I counted 
13 wars. Gentlemen, you have had 13 wars in 110 years. In 
your great war you put 3,500,000 men in the field on both sides, 
2,775;000 on the one side, and something like 500,000 on the other, 
I forget the exact figures. That, gentlemen, is an army almost 
equal the army that we have raised in three years, and almost 
exhausted our manhood in doing it. A great achievement, extraor- 
dinary in fact, and it would be an impertinence if we came here 
with a suggestion to teach you how to conduct a war. 

But we can do something. We have bought our experience with 
untold gold. Millions in money, squandered, thrown away in 
attempting to reach the pitch we have reached now. That is 
nothing, but we have squandered hundreds of thousands of val- 
uable lives, men who might have been alive today if we had known 
what we know now, and it is to save you both money and men 
to give you freely what we have paid so dearly for, it is for that 
we come across the ocean today. 

You would like to know where we stand. There are two great 
points, as I see them. They are men and material. The whole 
war is summed up in these two words, men and material. And 



9 

when I say men, usually I include the complement of man, woman. 
For we have found our women a most valuable asset. At first 
our women walked around with red crosses on their caps, and 
put on fantastic uniforms, and those who were too old to do this, 
took up their knitting, and made all sorts of peculiar looking 
garments, in which the men in the trenches looked like some strange 
kind of animal — all this was done by our dear women thinking they 
were helping. But we have gotten over that. Now our women 
are doing real war work. But I will speak' of that later. 

In dealing with the question of men and material, may I begin 
with the men ? It is perhaps difficult for me standing here, seeing 
so little of your men, to express an opinion on them, but I have 
seen your camp at Meade, and I have seen your young officers 
getting their commissions from the hands of your President, and 
though this is only a very small sample, I take it, it is a very 
fair sample; and, I say this sincerely, finer material for soldiers 
I have never seen, a finer material does not exist in France today, 
and I include the Canadians, the Australians, and the New Zeal- 
anders, which are the pick and flower of our army. Now I know 
you can raise almost an unlimited number of these magnificent 
men. But we have learned one great lesson in this war; that is, 
that nothing is so useless as a partially trained soldier; I go further, 
nothing is so dangerous, nothing so disastrous as a partially 
trained soldier. He is perfectly certain to be hurled back, to 
cause disaster to his side, and therefore we have found (I am not 
speaking of you) that it was necessary to maintain a certain 
standard. f-We had this enormous advantage over you. We 
had Lord Kitchener to organize our army ; and he at once saw that 
there was only one way in which it could be done, and that was 
to use the existing organization, the existing trained men and 
officers to form the nucleus for the new army. Thus we did not 
make a single really new regiment. We took our old regiments, 
and for every new regiment we created, we drafted in a few officers, 
a few non-commissioned officers, and a few trained men from the 
old. That little group of seasoned men leavened the whole new 
army. The first thing a man learned was the history of his 
regiment. He was told: "Now, you have come to join the — th 
Regiment. It's the finest regiment in the army. For God's 
sake, don't do anything to lower its standard. Sergeant, take 
him away and teach him how to be a credit to his regiment." 

The next thing a man has to do is learn to wear a uniform. 
We try to make him look smart, see that his uniform fits, he gets 



10 

a hair cut, and so on, until he is clean, smart, and looks well. 
As soon as a man looks well, and knows he looks well, he feels well. 
That is the whole secret of making a soldier. Make him believe 
his is a fine fellow. Make him believe he is a finer fellow than the 
other fellow, and he will go over the top and whip the other fellow 
every time. 

I read in your journals an article which said that swagger 
sticks should not be allowed in the American Army. Now, I 
quite sympathize, I sympathize deeply, with the lady who wrote 
that article. I think she really meant well, but she did not 
know what she was talking about. She could have realized that 
it is not for the purpose of swaggering that they are carried. No, 
it is because a man in uniform, without his gun or any equipment, 
does not know what to do with his two hands. You all know 
the man who comes on the stage, and does not know what to do 
with his hands; he puts them first in his pockets, then folds his 
arms, and then lets them hang loosely, and so on. Well, the soldier 
feels just like that. And then, too, he likes to give an approaching 
officer a smart salute, with his cane tucked under his arm. 

Now, about that salute. In the old army we just told a man to 
salute every officer, every time he appeared. But our new army, 
being free and independent citizens, obliged us to take another 
method; so we said to him: "Now, look here. When an officer 
speaks to you, and when he passes you, stand at attention, and 
salute him, like this. And why do you do this? Because this 
officer is the man who is going to lead you in battle. He is the 
man who is going to give you an order upon which the safety of 
your regiment may depend. If you do not get that order, and 
execute it quickly, disaster may overtake the whole unit." Why, 
we get those men so trained, that if they were told not to salute a 
certain officer, when he was seen approaching, every hand would 
come to salute in spite of it, so natural does the habit become. 
When your army is so trained, then and not until then, can you 
be sure that you have an army of real soldiers. Then we tell 
them the story of the salute. You know, that in the old days, 
the only people allowed to fight, the only people who fought on 
horses, and fought with swords and lances, were the Knights. 
The Knight had his helmet on, and his vizor down, and when he 
approached another Knight, he lifted up his vizor to see whether 
friend or foe approached. If a friend, the second Knight also 
lifted his vizor. That, gentlemen, was the origin of the salute; 
and all that has a value. We tell this man he is descended from 



11 

the Knights of old, and wears his helmet, and so he stands at 
salute. And, gentlemen, in the British Army, we never salute 
without our hat on. We can not salute without our hat on, it is 
the custom of the British Army. If I meet my Commanding 
Officer, and I have not my hat on, I simply look him in the eye, 
because a British soldier can look any man in the face. As soon 
as a man grasps the idea, you will have to stop him from saluting 
at attention. He wants to do it on every occasion. When you 
have reached this point, you get that "esprit de corps" that is 
going to carry, that has carried the British Army through those 
awful attacks by the Germans, when officers and men fall all 
around you, and yet you go on, because while the line may bend, 
the line of the British Army can never break. 

Gentlemen, we have not got the class of men now, that we had 
at the beginning of the war. They are lying buried in France. 
We are now getting down to a different class of men. We are 
getting down to the men we said at first we did not want. We 
are now obliged to take them, and we have not and can net expect 
to have at the end of three years war the same men we had at the 
beginning, but we have got men ; and we have got enough men to 
see this winter through. But whether we have enough men to 
carry into next year, it is not my business to tell you. But I do 
say this, that we look over here, and see these millions of magni- 
ficent soldiers walking about, and we do say: "God help the Hun!" 
Now I have said quite enough about the men. My conviction is, 
and that conviction is not based on peace training, but on the war, 
that our regiments that come up into the line with a click, and 
who come up into the front line with a snap and vigor, the men 
with shining equipment, heads up and eyes alert, they are the 
men who go over the top and bring back prisoners. If we get a 
slack regiment that goes with not much click, not very clean, 
rather dirty looking, a little bit slovenly, we know by bitter 
experience that when the Hun comes over, he will take back a 
big bunch of them, and push it out of the trench. That has not 
happened once, it has happened a hundred times. That is the 
reason for the highest discipline. You, in the old days, used to 
tame your horses by the force system. You used to overcome or 
break your horses by force. Well, we train our horses by teaching 
and by absolute gentleness and kindness, and the result is you 
get in the British Army, not the best, the French and Italian 
have that, but as well-trained horses as you get in any place. 
There is no reason why you should not train men in precisely the 



12 

same lines. The most democratic man can hot object to doing 
his bit, and if you make him believe he is doing his bit by observ- 
ing all the little rules of neatness and order in camp, placing his 
boots, toes out, folding his blankets just so; make him believe 
that, and you will have a very perfect soldier in the trenches. 
The man who can do the small thing, will never fail you in the 
big one. And I feel sure, from what I have seen at Camp Meade, 
that this lesson has been brought to you, as it was to us. And I 
say, before the violets are cut in the springtime in England, you 
will be over there in sufficient numbers to take up the burden of 
the war. 

Now, I want to come to material. One of the most impressive 
things at the front is that, from the base for 30, 60, 100, 150 
kilometers, you find nothing but one long line of transport wagons, 
mostly three ton motor lorries, moving crowded with stuff, on 
every road, on every by-road. Everywhere you see trains so 
long that you would not believe engines could pull them, all 
loaded with stuff. Every big station, depot, and shed is piled 
high, and the ships come over in a constant stream, conveying 
more material. 

At the front, where the greatest devastation exists, you con- 
stantly come across these great railways, looking like a big city. 
It is the "dunnage" of an army in the field, and from this great 
mass, this great mass of transport, are taken out the tons of am- 
munition that are required in battle. From here they are taken 
in trains drawn by tiny engines, which can advance to a point 
where the larger engines can not go, over tracks which look like 
those for a toy train. With this ammunition battles of artillery 
are fought such as the world never saw before. 

Gentlemen, while I am telling you this, I might as well tell you 
the amount of ammunition used in an artillery battle. I had 
the honor to be at Messines. It seems almost impossible until 
you see it. During the six days of the battle of Messines, eleven 
long trains a day brought up the ammunition. 240,000 tons of 
ammunition were used, and only on one army front; 22,000 tons 
by one corps. 

If your material has to be transported across the ocean, and we 
have done that on a comparatively large scale in our African wars ; 
we had just about four times the distance to cover, but we did it. 
And that fact that we were able to keep an army of 200,000 in the 
field in the war, with that tremendous sea communication, and 
that still more tremendous land communication, with a single 



13 

line of railway, makes me certain that you can meet this problem 
far better than we did. But, gentlemen, do not let us overlook 
it. You must have the ships not only to get your army over, but 
to keep your army supplied. 

Earlier in my talk, I spoke of the work of the people at home. 
We found that we had to get discipline among our people, and we 
found it the hardest task of all. We found that we had to get 
every one, including the shirker. I am not talking of the shirker 
who shirked from the front, but the shirker who shirked from 
work. We had enormous difficulty in fitting the right man, and 
the right woman, into the right place. 

This can only be done by organization. Now, my wife — I tell 
you of this because it is the case I know most about — my wife 
wanted to do war work. Something helpful, that not everyone 
else was doing. And she took on the very trying task of the 
grave's registration, and that department, gentlemen, fills a house 
quite as big, if not larger, than this hotel [The Willard] . That house 
is next to our Army and Navy Club, and is filled with clerks, the 
majority of whom are officers' wives. They are directed by a 
major and two or three staff captains from the war office. All 
the rest are women. There are typewriters, and there are registry 
clerks, and there are all those ladies who do what I call the heavy 
work. That work includes not only the care of the registry, but 
they get out maps, and pin prick the exact spot; they get the loca- 
tion and name of the nearest town, the nearest railway station; 
all particulars, whether common grave, whether headstone or 
wooden cross, or nothing; name, rank, date, and name of Priest 
or Minister who buried him; name and address of the nearest 
relative; all this for the purpose of enabling those people one day 
to visit the graves of their sons. And I think it is worth it. 

Gentlemen, this is a big work, but it is only one; there are 
hundreds of others. Do not make the mistake we did. Do not 
take the first lady who comes in and says, "Oh, Colonel, I am just 
dying to do something to help!" and you put her to work, and one 
afternoon she does not come in, and you find she has gone to take 

tea with Mrs. . Well, we found it impossible to work that 

way, so we had to go to these ladies and say, "We are going to 
pay you." At first they objected, and said they did not want 
any pay, but we were firm, and so they now receive pay. And 
when the first lady who went out for a half-hour came back, she 
was told that Captain Smith would like to see her. When she 
went to Captain Smith, he said, "Why did you go out without 



14 

leave?" "Oh! do we have to get leave?" "Oh, yes, madam; you 
must get leave whenever you go out." And so with a very little 
firmness, those women are working as well or better than the 
men. Because when a woman does take on anything, she works 
harder, and better than a man. Now, there is one small matter 
with reference to the work of women in this war, which perhaps 
I ought not to mention at all. But it is of such paramount im- 
portance, that I feel it should be said. We are losing hundreds of 
thousands of men a month, 120,000 last month, and I am afraid 
it will be about a hundred thousand next month, and that has been 
going on for three years. There is one paramount duty of every 
woman, and that is to get married as quickly as possible, and have 
as many children as she can before the end of the war. That is 
a very great question, and one that applies to every nation. We 
have encouraged our men to come home as often as they can, and 
parents are encouraging their girls to marry as soon as they fall 
in love, and not wait six months or twelve months, as is usually 
the custom. That is our way. There may be better ways, but 
we have not found them. Gentlemen, the large proportion of 
boys to girls now being born is simply extraordinary. The effect 
that this war has had on our men and women, because we are 
losing our men in battle, we are getting them back again in that 
way, is remarkable. 

I have been very serious, and told you a great many dry facts. 
I felt it my duty to do so. Now, perhaps, you would like to hear 
something not so serious. Perhaps you would like to know how 
our soldiers live in the trenches, or what a battle is like. I have 
had the privilege of taking part in the last five battles before the 
end of October. From our first great victory at Messines, in 
which I took part, down to the third week of October last. I came 
from the firing line across here to America. 

It is very interesting to walk down that Ypres road and see that 
wonderful long chain which is all going to the front, and another 
line coming back. The main Ypres road, which runs from Ypres 
to Poperinghe, was built by order of Napoleon, who when asked 
how he wanted the road to run, drew a straight line, and said 
"that is how I want that road." In consequence of these fine 
roads we have been able to do what we have done in this war. 
Now down that road there is just room for three lines of vehicles 
abreast. At every cross-road throughout France where the British 
Army is, there is a British policeman directing the traffic. If 
anything breaks down it is given about a minute to right itself, 



15 

and if not all right in that time, it is picked up and thrown into a 
ditch. Now that traffic is moving day and night. I went down 
to the divisional headquarters at Ypres, and it is very interesting 
to note that those ramparts have been again and again bombarded 
by every size shell you can think of. You can see where the Cloth 
Hall was and see a wall sticking up in the air, which was the 
cathedral, if some one points it out to you. The headquarters, 
in the ramparts, are still untouched by guns, amid all the destruc- 
tion about. These ramparts were built by Vauban 100 years ago. 

Well, gentlemen, that stream consists mostly of motor lorries, 
one line going down loaded, another coming back for supplies. 
The road turns several dangerous corners, as the names indicate. 
"Hell Fire Corner," and "Shrapnel Corner." When the motor 
lorries reach these corners the enemy fire is turned upon them. 
So they usually 4;ake these corners about dusk, and the men are 
waiting for them to take supplies on their backs, and wind a 
slow, tortuous way out to the front line trenches, under cover. of 
darkness. Just before dark the stream of traffic consists mostly 
of supplies, ammunition of all sizes, and fodder for horses. There 
are all the materials of war, which are merely the materials of 
peace, plus ammunition, ammunition, and ammunition. And in 
the midst of that stream you will see motor cars, all going at the 
pace of the slowest vehicle. One line is horse traffic, the other 
two motor traffic. Everything moves at the speed of a motor 
lorry. Then you see a long line of empty motors, red cross ambu- 
lances going out. On the other side, you see the same wagons 
returning with the flaps down, and beneath the flaps you see the 
blood-stained bandages of wounded men. They have received 
the first aid dressing at farm houses, ruins, and dugouts, where the 
devoted medical officers under heavy fire, are giving first aid to 
these men. Then they are carried back of the line to an advance 
hospital, and as soon as possible removed to the larger hospitals, 
back from the front. The Sisters are not allowed to go near the 
firing line, because the Germans used to shell the front line hospi- 
tals, and some Sisters were killed. 

Talking about bombing and shelling, I had a rather interesting 
experience the day before I came over. My step-son was com- 
manding a battery of artillery. I knew he was somewhere on our 
front, so I went to the telephone in my office — we had a wonderful 
telephone system — and rang up his headquarters, and in a few 
minutes I was in communication with his brigade commander. 
I asked if he could send a message to my step-son, requesting him 



16 

to dine with me that evening, as I was going to America the next 
day. The message delivered, my step-son replied that if I would 
have my car at "Hell Fire" corner at a certain hour, he would come. 
Well, he came, and while we were dressing, I remarked that I 
expected to be bombed that night. It was about time for another 
one. "I don't mind bombs," said he, "What I hate is those 
beastly shells." Well, it was no wonder he hated shells, when he 
had lost four guns, his favorite subaltern, his own servant, all of 
his kit, three corporals and thirty men killed and wounded, in 
that one little battery only the day before. He had had in his 
brigade, three out of four battery commanders killed. He was 
the only one left alive. So it was no wonder that he hated shells. 

Soon after this the electric light went out; we have electric 
lights everywhere, just as soon as we estabhsh a billet. You 
can not do much work if you have no light. No sooner did the light 
go out than we said that is the Hun, and we heard the shells, 
and then we could hear the zum, zum, zum, of the Hun aeroplane. 
It makes quite a different noise from any others, and you soon get 
to tell it. It seemed to be just overhead and we heard two bombs 
fall, and then two more; then my step-son said, "Get me a tin 
helmet, I don't like these chips." I thought I had better get my 
own hat, also. Shortly after retiring when we thought the attack 
was over, I heard a horrible scream, and I realized that a nine 
point four was overhead. I am a very nervous man, and I was 
frightened; I thought my step-son being a gunner would be a 
comfort to me, so I called him, and called him again. Hearing 
nothing, I finally went into his room, and found him sound asleep 
and snoring in spite of the shells screaming above. 

But what is it like in a battle? Now I will very briefly tell 
you what we did at the battle of Messines. We were a trained 
army. W^e had been sitting in front of Messines for just a year. 
Messines is on a hill, and we were in the valley. We had Hill 63, 
a little lower than Messines. The Hun had known that we were 
going to attack Messines 12 months ago, but we did not attack then, 
because our commander decided to attack elsewhere, so the Hun 
had 12 months to prepare, and he had made excellent use of it- 
He had dug out cellars, trenches, and everywhere were barbed 
wire entanglements, miles and miles of them, one behind the other; 
so we were up against what you call rather a tough nut. 

The first thing we did was to pull our divisions out of the line, one 
by one, and each division marched back fourteen or fifteen miles, 
where there was peace. ' Then we marked out the Hun trenches, 



17 

and our trenches, in exact detail, from aeroplane photographs, 
and we rehearsed again and again the attack on Messines. And 
then we had each division drawn up before the staff, and each 
regiment marched past, and gave the salute, and presented arms, 
and went through the old ceremonial drill, because, gentlemen, 
we have had to go back to find old ceremonial drill in order to get 
the necessary perfect discipline. Then we rehearsed the battle 
again. The officer jumps in front of his men, the officers always 
lead the men — and they advance at the regular pace. The barrage 
is represented by men walking in front with red flags, and the men 
must keep up with the barrage. The loss of a minute may prove 
disastrous. The machine guns are brought out, and the whole 
proceeds as in a regular battle. 

For weeks the artillery had been massing, everything from a 
15-inch gun to an 18-pounder. When everything is ready, the 
artillery opens fire, guns, hundreds, thousands of guns, of every 
size. The big ones knocking down the defenses, the little ones 
cutting the barbed wire; hundreds of observation balloons in the 
air, each with an observer to tell how much further the aim should 
have been, how much damage done, how much wire cut. Hundreds 
of aeroplanes going up all day long, doing the same thing. Until 
finally, the day before, twenty-four hours before, you see on all 
the roads for miles, battalions, brigade after brigade, division 
after division of infantry, marching down to battle, and massed 
three or four miles behind the line. And then twenty-hour hours 
before the attack, everything being ready, these battalions at 
night silently move out and down into the actual position. The 
night before the attack, about 9 o'clock, they move out into the 
front line trench, and they have to wait through the long and weary 
hours of darkness for that moment, for the sound of the opening 
of the heavy gun fire. Every officer's watch has been timed and 
set with the watch at headquarters. When the zero hour is at 
hand, every single 'gun opens fire at the same moment, with a 
single huge blast. I think that the five or six minutes before the 
zero hour is reached, are the most trying of the battle. The men 
have waited all night long for that hour, an endless, sleepless, 
nerve-racking strain, knowing that when the hour approaches, 
and they spring over the trench under cover of the artillery fire, 
the guns of the Hun will put down the same barrage; every gim 
will be trained on them, he knows that the betting is even that 
he will be hit, and that many will be killed. Now, gentlemen, you 
can not do that unless you have had training, the iron discipline 



18 

that compels you to do what your comrades on the right and left 
of you are doing, which makes you go forward, certain that they 
will go forward too, because to disobey is impossible. Think, 
then, of the splendid vigor with which these men go, trained to a 
hair, with perfect confidence in their officers, in their supports, 
going forward to meet that hell! 

Then when they have reached the objective point, it is out with 
the picks, down into the ground, digging like the devil to make a 
trench. Digging while your comrades are falling around you, 
shells bursting over you, men dropping on every side, others 
taking their places. When by nightfall, the trench is finished 
they drop doAvn into it, completely exhausted. 

Now, I am going to horrify you gentlemen. We have found that 
the strain of waiting in that trench, possibly in the rain, almost 
certain death staring them in the face, with their mouths getting 
dryer and dryer, breathing in gasps, determined to go, but growing 
more and more dumb with the terror in front of them: we have 
found that it is only kind to give them something to carry them 
through the attack. It is not in the shape of a dope. Just 
something to give them a little heart. So five minutes before the 
hour of attack, the sergeant goes around and gives every man a 
tot of rum. Ah! if you could only know the effect of that tot of 
rum! They are absolutely different men. I have told you this, 
knowing it is against the principles of this country, but I want 
to know if you would allow these men to go through that awful 
five minutes with nothing but their natural courage to hold them 
up? 

The evening has gone so quickly, but I have very little more to 
say to you. I feel coming here that I have not come to what I 
expected. I told some gentlemen to whom I spoke the other day, 
that when I was told I was to come over here, I said that I did 
not want to come. I did not know anything about America, 
and I did not want to come. But my great surprise was that when 
I came, I found myself among my own people. And I only wish 
that every Englishman could come to America, and every American 
could go to England. Only, I am afraid you would sink the little 
island, there are so many of you. 

Gentlemen, you have got the most magnificent declaration that 
the world has ever heard, and I can not do better than suggest 
to you that that declaration which you made for your own personal 
service, can be applied to those poor little states, Belgium, Serbia, 
Poland, and the others. I can't think that there could be a finer 



19 

or more magnificent charter to go forth and do as you are doing. 
When I read those wonderful words, I said to myself that they were 
entirely British, and then I remembered that they were written 
by Britons to Britons, and then I remembered that the Briton who 
received them, went to his King, and said, "Let us give these 
people what they ask," and then I remembered that that King 
was a Hanoverian, a German Prince, and that he was mad, and 
gentlemen, I need hardly say more. Today we are going forth 
to fight another mad German prince. I do not mind speaking 
for you as well as myself, you and I have got to crush him, and we 
are going to crush him, and we are going to crush him because we 
are in the right. 

I can repeat these words, and as I repeat them, I feel as we all 
feel in England today, that we shall not win this war imtil we as 
a nation turn from the selfish lives we have lived, timi to God, 
as our fathers did, and until then, I do not believe He is going to 
let us win. I was much siuprised and impressed to find up in 
London that same opinion expressed on posters by General 
Robertson, and also by Admiral Jellico, that imtil the people are 
prepared to be less self-seeking, and turn more to the God of our 
fathers, only then can we win this war. That, gentlemen, does 
not apply to you. With that magnificent declaration, I do not 
think it can apply to you. You once took it upon yourselves to 
turn off the tyrant, and declare your freedom, and you called 
God to witness it in most noble words, to witness the integrity 
of your action. I doubt if I can remember the exact words: 

"We, the representatives of the United States of America, 
in General Congress, assembled, appealing to the Supreme 
Judge of the World for the rectitude of our intentions, do 
solemnly Publish and Declare, that these United Colonies 
are and of right ought to be. Free and Independent States." 

Gentlemen, this is the charter which you are now sending to 
Europe, in the same words, for the same purpose, by the same 
people ; and we Britishers are imited with you now, heart and soul, 
and this union will be sealed by the blood of both nations on the 
field of battle, and will bring together forever the Anglo-vSaxon 
race for the good of the world, as I believe tliey should have been 
brought together a hundred years ago. 




m 









^o 



^MM' 






y-r 


"% 







^Jt^ 0< °c 



>> 

'^.^ 



'> 



A> 



■V 



^ 






.><i- 







-J^"^ .^ 



■ <;> '^ « « c - <^ ' 







^40, 



^> *■ o « o ' .V 



'3^^^. 



^^^ 






^^ 



..^ 



^* 



,-;q. 



0^ :IJ 






.,<?>' 



^^^^. 






o 






-{y^ 



.^' 



.-iy- 



■\^ ,. < " o , 



^"^^s^" 



..^^ 



^/v,^^ 






^^^1^^^^^ 






A- 



•^bv^ 
















^^^^ .^^^ '^^- 






.0 



/ \/-':^i^<'^ 



0' 



j5o 



^o V^' 









?v^-n^. 



0' "^^^ 





* jj. ^ O 



'%. *""'> 



.^' 






v^ 



^^* ; 



' )' '' '" ?ii"'Hv;'i|ii*ivj iia 



■n 


1 


^^^^^H 




■ 


i;. 


^^m 


I 


I 


1, 
1; 


1 


: 




!!!iii!iiiil!liiiliiiii!ilililll!i!j!itll!li!:i 



